


Dead Walking

by PureBloodReject



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Demisexuality, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Good Friend Shane Walsh, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light BDSM, Lori Grimes Bashing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Rickyl, Sex Toys, Slow Burn Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Versatile Rick/Daryl, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:46:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureBloodReject/pseuds/PureBloodReject
Summary: Everyone knows Rick Grimes of King County. He’s a loving father and husband of the local police department. He works hard to support his family and uphold the law. But what the public doesn’t know is that he is an avid gamer. When he isn’t at work or playing with his young son, Rick is online playing the most recent zombie survival game, looking to survive but lonely in his endeavors as a lone wolf and in life. There’s trouble in paradise though. There is a disturbance in Atlanta and APD is asking for his assistance in the case. Lori isn’t happy with this. What’ll happen in Atlanta? Will Rick be happy with the group he finds in his survival game? Read and find out.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Merle Dixon/Carol Peletier, Michonne/Shane Walsh
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is my first foray into TWD fandom. So don't butcher me to hard. If you see anything let me know. Or if there is something you want to see comment and I'll try to add it. Unbeta'd cause of course I don't have one. Any help would be appreciated. As for my other stories, I am slowly getting those back on the grind too. I'm going to try and post every other week depending on how work is killing me. Thanks and enjoy.

Typing/Texting ‘ _Italics_ ’

* * *

Just about everyone in Kings County knew of Officer Rick Grimes. He was an upstanding citizen, upheld the law of the land, and seeked justice for victims of lawbreakers. The current Sheriff, Morgan Jones, was getting ready to step down and retire after many years of service to spend more time with his family. He had been hounding Rick for months to take the position. He had an impeccable record, always showed up on time and stayed late, had good relations with the public, and excelled at the academy. However, Rick kept declining. Working out with the public, catching criminals, and defending those that could not was something he lived for. Taking the position of Sheriff would mean, being stuck behind a desk majority of the time and a god awful amount of paperwork, which he already hated to do. He loved his job though, as much as his family.

Officer Grimes’ family consisted of his high school sweetheart, Lori, and their pre-teen son, Carl. They lived in a well kept, cookie cutter, suburban community, complete with nosey neighbors, children asking for fundraiser money for one thing or another, and an almost constant flow of bake sales just the same. Lori was the dutiful housewife and kept everyone and everything in working order, keeping up with the local gossip and appearances. More often than not, Rick’s partner on the force, Shane, was seen together with the family on and off the clock. They had known each other most of their lives and was essentially Rick’s brother in all but blood. Thus, Carl dubbed him Uncle Shane. He really cared for his family.

To everyone on the outside, Officer Rick Grimes had the perfect life. Perfect wife, son, and friend. Perfect suburban home. Perfect job. Perfect everything.

But that could not be further from the truth.

Little did they know Rick had a whole other facet to his “perfect” southern cop, do gooder personality. The curly haired sheriff’s deputy held many secrets close to his chest, some of which even his wife wasn’t aware of. Lori had a certain way of life before meeting him and wanted to continue to live that lifestyle. Rick still loved her despite this need to have nice things and gossip almost constantly, attempting to “keep up with the Jones’.” However, he wasn’t like that. The southern man could live without all the thrills and frills of the modern, country chic thing his wife had going on. Everything had a place. It was almost like living in a museum. He almost couldn’t stand it. But. This was what she wanted and how could he argue with his beautiful wife. But there was one more thing that Rick knew Lori couldn’t stand for anyone else to know about her husband. He was the biggest gamer nerd.

“Watch what you’re doing, asshole!” The gamer yelled, as well as typed, as he tried to run around a small herd that was traveling through the area he had chosen to scout for supplies. Except, there was someone else there also looking for supplies in the very popular zombie survival game, Dead Walking II. Rick had loved video games of all kinds since he first got his hands on an old nintendo, which is considered an antique now. As a kid, he fell in love with it playing all the old classics, Mario, Zelda, and Metroid. As he grew up and more systems came out, his parents spoiled him by buying him the newest and best out there. His love for it never faded, even after becoming a husband and father. The curly haired officer continued to play and enjoy his games in private, despite his wife’s need to constantly nag about growing up.

“ _Sorry, dude. I didn’t think anyone would be around here gathering stuff_.” The other survivor, FanaticCrossbow, typed as he helped Rick clear the invasion with a handy looking, and silent, crossbow. Rick had been after this place for a while, but working solo had its disadvantages and advantages. Being solo, he could run in and out of places pretty quickly, but that also meant that if he got cornered or overwhelmed he was done for. He was lucky, actually, that this random came by to scout for resources too. That herd, although small, could have taken him out. He groaned just thinking about having to start all over from level one.

“ _That’s okay, I’m glad you stopped by, or I would have been done for_.” Looking in his pack, being the do gooder he was, dropped some bandages and a few other supplies he knew the other guy could use. “ _Take these. It’ll help_.”

As he turned to leave the area after gathering a few more things scattered around he saw a message pop up again, “ _Wait! Are you alone?_ ”

Python: _Yeah… Have been since the beginning. Ran across some other settlements, but it wouldn’t have worked out._

Rick looked around to make sure they were alone and no living dead was running around close to them. That’s all he needed, was for them to be chatting and get killed because of it.

FanaticCrossbow: _I know what you mean. I used to run with my brother, but… he stopped playing a while back. So, it’s been just me for a while now. Thanks for the bandages, I know they are hard as fuck to find. I was running pretty low._

Python: _Welcome. Maybe we could partner up sometime?_

Rick had never asked anyone to partner up with him before, but something was telling him this would turn out to be a very good idea. He hoped.

FanaticCrossbow: _Sure._

A small smile appeared on the cop’s face as he heard a ping and a message pop up for a friend request. He accepted it just as he heard Lori yell from down stairs.

“Rick, get down here and off that game! Dinner has been ready for 30 minutes now!” Sighing as he glanced back down at his screen, Rick saw that his new partner was walking away from him.

Python: _Sorry, gotta go. Wife nagging about dinner being ready. See you tomorrow._

Before Crossbow could reply, he was already logging off and moving downstairs. He could hear their son going on about his school day. Turning the corner, a grimace fell across his face as he saw the look Lori was giving him. Thankfully, Carl was paying more attention to his story and food than the way his mother looked. She was always annoyed when he had been playing any video game let alone Dead Walking.

“Hey dad, how was your game?” Pulling out the chair at the head of the table, he looked over to his son.

“Almost got caught in a herd this time, but some random helped me out.” Hearing the clearing of a throat, he glanced over at Lori. Wincing, he turned back to Carl, “How was school today, buddy?”

And crisis averted, as the pre-teen started going on about something that happened at school that day. Rick didn’t understand why Lori couldn’t stand his hobbies. He didn’t say anything about her going out every day to eat and gossip with her friends or her book club. It seemed, lately, anything that he did was setting her off. Staying too long at work. Not staying long enough. Playing games. Not spending time with their son. It was almost like he breathed wrong around her, and she was down his throat again.

The ringing of his phone startled him out of his thoughts and stopped Carl dead in his rambling about a test they took that Friday.

Reaching into his pocket, he answered seeing as it was work, despite the glare from Lori. After all, it was disturbing her barely edible dinner. “Grimes.”

“Rick, I’m sorry to disturb you at home, but there’s been another murder in Atlanta. They are asking for you specifically to come in to assist with the investigation.” Sheriff Jones said in exasperation with a tinge of worry. Grimes understood why he was worried, Atlanta wasn’t that far from King County, and if this was turning into what he suspected, a serial killer, then it could impact their small area. “I want you to head to Atlanta first thing tomorrow and give assistance to their department. Maybe new eyes can shed some light on this before this spreads further than the big city.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there first thing” Hanging up, blue eyes stared at his cell. He didn’t even need to look up at his wife to know that she was giving him that burning, hell fire look. They had planned to take Carl out to the park and have a family day, but when work called he couldn’t say no, especially with what was happening. He wished Lori was a little bit more understanding about his work. Constantly on him about working long hours and not spending more time with the family.

“Dad?” Came the weak, inquisitive voice of his son. At least his son would understand. Carl was the son of Officer Rick Grimes. He was extremely proud of his dad. He caught bad guys and helped those that were hurt. It still made him sad when they had to cancel plans last minute, or he couldn’t tuck him into bed, but he understood or tried to.

And then came that ice cold voice, “Rick? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, buddy. I have to go out to Atlanta tomorrow. They need me to help with an investigation. Maybe we can go out another day.” Grinding his teeth, listening as the chair across from him scraped against the floor.

“What do you mean?! We have been planning this day for weeks! And all of a sudden Atlanta is calling you in? You couldn’t have said no?!”

“Lor-” Rick tried to stem the flow before it turned into another argument, but was unsuccessful.

“Why does Atlanta even need a small town officer to help out? What can you do for them? All you do is sit on the highway and write tickets and b-bullshit with Shane!” Lori screeched like a banshee. Ice blue eyes swiveled over to Carl hearing a sniffle. Frowning, he hated fighting in front of his son. He shouldn’t have to see how unhappy his parents were.

“I’m sorry, Lori. I have a job that supports this family, so you don’t have to work and can take care of Carl.” As he said his son’s name, identical blue eyes met. Motioning to the pre-teen’s room upstairs, the senior officer watched as his son, head drooped in sadness and shoulders tense with emotional pain, made his way there. He turned back to Lori, eyes nothing more than ice chips “Why do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why do ya have to start somethin’ in front of our son like that? I understand yer upset abou’ tomorra but... “ Rick’s accent became worse when he got mad. It used to set fire to Lori, but no longer it seemed. It seemed to just aggravate her more.

Lori cut him off again, “Yeah, I’m upset! We had this planned for weeks. You hardly spend time with us anymore. You’re always working. When was the last time you spent more than a hour with Carl? When was the… When was the last time we went on a date? Just the two of us. You’re never around anymore, and now you’re going to be away more and probably be staying in Atlanta. That isn’t a short drive.”

“It’s important, Lor. My job matters. Why can’t-”

“Enough, Rick. It’s the same excuses. The same promises broken. Don’t come to bed tonight or for the next week.” Twirling her brown hair, she left the dining room and went upstairs into their bedroom.

Sighing, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and started gathering up the half eaten dinner, putting it in the sink to wash. As he washed the dishes, Rick thought about how things used to be. They had been married for about 15 years now. He had fallen in love with her the first time he saw her at the football game she was cheering at. Since then everything had been perfect. Perfect wedding. Perfect son. Everything. Perfect. That was until recently. Within the last three years, things have gone down hill. Rapidly. He sighed again. He was tired. He just wanted to be a happy family again. He couldn’t say anything right, couldn’t do anything right.

The exhausted man finished the dishes and retrieved the familiar looking sheets and blankets for the couch. This wasn’t the first time he would sleep on the couch and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He settled in for the night, sleep slowly taking over.

Rick Grimes was tired.

Rick Grimes was exhausted.

And he had no idea what to do anymore.


	2. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you guys for the awesome response so far. I'm actually excited for this story, and I hope it turns out well. Again if you see something wrong, an inconsistency, or want to see something in the story let me know and I will try to fix it. I’ll try to post about every other week due to my work schedule, more frequently if I can. I’ve already started on chapter three as you read :D Read and enjoy!
> 
> Typing/Texting 'Italics'

His morning had NOT started off well.

The couch, although an almost constant companion these days, left his neck and shoulders aching and stiff. He had gotten up and put everything he used up before slipping into the shower, hoping to get out quick enough to avoid Lori and the tongue lashing he knew would be coming.

He had not.

Lori had laid into him as soon as he stepped a foot into the living room, not even fully dressed. Thankfully, Carl was still dead to the world and was saved from the verbal beating he had received. Rick continued to 'listen' to the rehash from last night as he finished dressing, slipping his cell and wallet into his pockets as he waited for the enraged woman to take a breath.

"Lori, enough. I will be home some time tonight, and I'll text to let you know." Not even waiting for a reply, the exhausted man grabbed his keys and left without another word, ignoring the sputtering of rage coming from his wife.

Now that he was almost two hours away from his problems at home and in a place he was familiar with, the small town officer felt himself almost relax. Unlike back home, there was a lot more hustle and noise at APD. They were probably two or three times the size of King County. Instead of the desks being cramped in such a small space, they were a little more spaced out but had more of them. A receptionist sat in front of the sea of desks, directing the flow of people and taking calls. Filled with anticipation and a little case of first day nerves, Officer Grimes walked up to, reading the name on her tag, Denise.

"Can I help you?" The blonde woman asked in a soft voice, waving her hair out of her face from the loose messy bun. The older officer let a soft, encouraging smile fall over his face. He remembered being new too.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Rick Grimes from King County. Sheriff Jones said APD requested my assistance on a case." He watched as she clicked away on her computer. Looking around, blue eyes surveyed the ever growing amount of personnel running around. Well, he must be early then.

"Yes sir, head over to Chief Ford's office. He'll be waiting to brief you on the case." Rick nodded in thanks, walking in the direction she pointed. The butterflies began stirring up more as he passed through the rows and rows of desks toward the back of the room.

Most of the officers on desk duty ignored the new meat as he passed by, only a few weren’t too busy to take a peek, but he ignored them. Rick remembered back when he had been a rookie and the nerves that constantly had his stomach in knots. Even in a small station like King County, he had been eyed up by the veterans of the force, used to make him even more nervous. But now. Now the only knot in his stomach was in anticipation of helping with this huge case, the eyes of the department didn’t faze him as they had before.

Honestly, the small town cop felt more at home with his fellow officers than at home with Lori most days, not that he didn’t miss Carl, but it was like walking on eggshells all the time. What he wouldn’t give to turn back the time to how it used to be. Loving his wife used to be so easy, not thought required to please her or make her happy. Now it seemed no matter how much thought or effort he put into their relationship he always messed up. Never seemed to be good enough for her. He couldn’t remember the last time they slept in bed together, let alone made love. It was just a mess.

They had married straight out of high school, just before he went to the academy, when they found out they were having Carl. They never had the chance to explore as a couple or have fun, but he didn’t regret having his son. He loved his son with his entire being. Rick would give him the world if he could.

Lori had a rough pregnancy and delivery, having to have an emergency c-section when she went into labor early and refused to dilate beyond a couple of centimeters. After the rough delivery, the stay-at-home mom refused to bond with the newborn. She did what was absolutely required of her and not a thing more. She’d bottle feed but not breast. She’d barely rock him to sleep, leaving most nights to Rick when he wasn’t working. The rookie officer spent every waking minute playing with and taking care of their son when he wasn’t at work. He thought Lori had developed postpartum depression, but had refused to get diagnosed when he brought it up. Even though it exhausted him to work a new job and raise an infant by himself, Rick wouldn’t have changed any of it.

A small smile slipped onto his face thinking of the pre-teen. He was the perfect little mix of him and Lori. They shared the same icy blue eyes, an even colder temper, and the same slim build but had Lori’s straight hair and soft features. Being almost a teen, Carl had just started to transition from baby face and long awkward limbs to the man he was going to become. This also meant dealing with new emerging hormone spikes and attitudes, but compared to others his age he was a fairly well behaved child. They had their fair share of fights and disagreements over some dumb things like bed times, video game privileges, homework, and numerous other things, otherwise he was a good kid.

Entering the doorway to the chief’s office, Rick suddenly stopped at the raised voices and another man in the office besides Chief Ford. He had met the chief of the Atlanta department when he had previously visited Jones in King County, so he would recognize that fluffy red hair anywhere, not to mention the bright red plumage on his face. He had military experience as seen in his stance and the well oiled machine that was his precinct. Right now, however, the chief’s normally pale face was turning a very unattractive shade of red, bleeding up from his collar to his ears. He was mad. Rick had seen it hundreds of times before, especially when working domestics. The other guy was telling him something he obviously didn’t want to hear.

“Don’ need no help with this case. Why you got to pull some small town cop for this?”

The topic of discussion turned his attention to the other male. The APD officer was about the same height as him with straight brown shaggy hair, which was different to the short cuts he was used to seeing on male officers, his included, mostly because Lori would have it no other way. The irate man had broad shoulders that were barely contained within the standard uniform, stretching the fabric to its limits. Icy blue eyes followed the line of his shoulders, where his hair touched down to his slim waist and hips. He was built like a damn model. But that’s not what grabbed his attention. It was that voice. That clear Georgia redneck drawl that had a little growl. I wonder if it’s there only when he’s mad, Rick thought, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he knocked lightly on the door.

“Should I come back… later?” His question fell to a whisper as the model-like officer whipped around and nailed him with a glare that could kill. Those eyes. They told a story. A raging storm. Rick was captivated by those fiery blue eyes, thin lips, and soft but strong features. He was handsome. All the women must flock to him. Rick watched as the other guy sealed off his expression and became nothing but a statue.

Clearing his throat, Chief Ford drew their attention away from each other. “That won’t be necessary, Grimes. I want you to meet someone. This is Dixon. Daryl Dixon.” He glanced at the broad officer in front of him. “Dixon, this is your _partner_ on the case, Deputy Rick Grimes.”

As the chief made the introductions, sharp blue eyes watched as the almost hostile man tensed even more, looking away from Rick. This guy did NOT look happy.

However, before he could say anything, Rick was forced to move out of the line of fire as Dixon scoffed and all but ran out of the office toward a conference room. This room looked to be the center of operations for the serial case. Wincing as he heard the door slam above the noise of the almost full bullpen, he made his way back into the police chief’s office, sitting in the offered chair. The new officer was in shock at the open animosity his new partner was showing. He hadn’t even done anything. Yet.

“Sorry about him. Dixon doesn’t like working with others, but this case is too important and has gone unsolved for too long. You are being brought in on this series of cases on the recommendation of Sheriff Jones. He tells me that you play well with others and have an impeccable record. I know this may seem a little out of your league compared to what you’re used to in King County, but I’m hoping with a new set of eyes on this case we can get somewhere. Despite his temper, Dixon is highly intelligent, don’t let him fool you, although he is an asshole.” As Abe told him all this he smirked thinking of the redneck fuming in the other room. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“I’ll do my best to live up to yours and Jones’ expectations of me, but I’m not worried about Dixon. We’ll figure something out.” He reached over and shook the Chief’s hand, as a feeling of eagerness passed over him.

He loved a good challenge.


	3. Chapter Three: Curly Haired Menace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has taken forever for me to update. I'm so sorry. I have had it written in my notebook for a while now but between work kicking my ass and depression kicking even harder, it has taken a while for me to get it on computer. Thank you for your patience. Please read and enjoy.

Typing/Texting ‘Italics’

Frustration was something usually felt by Daryl Dixon. But this was beyond frustration. A whole new word that needed inventing. 

Everything had been going great. He had finally gotten away from his hometown. The young Dixon had worked hard putting himself through college and even harder to change the views of his last name. All everyone saw when they heard the name Dixon was his father, Will Dixon. He had been the town drunk in King County. A mean drunk. There wasn’t a time when he wasn’t. Even when his mom had been alive, Dixon senior was just as mean and prone to using fists over words. Surprisingly, or not, his father’s reputation had even reached all the way to Atlanta. He was afraid his degree in criminal justice would be for naught, but as the years progressed and after running into some influential people, such as Chief Ford, the younger Dixon was able to change their opinions, about him at least.

A sigh escaped Daryl as he turned his thoughts away from his past. The less he thought about it the better. As soon as he could move from the small town of King County to Atlanta, he did. When he had graduated from Atlanta University, Daryl had applied for detective, but they didn’t have an opening. Chief Ford, not wanting to lose such a promising graduate, had offered him deputy to start. Five years had passed since then. Finally, Jordan, the old codger (more dust than blood), had decided to retire. Daryl had finally been given his promotion. 

That was six months ago. 

Six months worth of cases under his belt, most of which were solved. Six months of building his reputation as a snarky, no-shit-giving but hardworking, diligent detective. Daryl always showed up on time. Rain or shine. Sick or not. After a rather grueling case involving a missing girl, the chief forced him to take a few days off when he received an injury during a case. That was the first case he took after becoming a detective and he would never forget it. 

~Flashback~

Little Sophia Peletier had been reported missing by an extremely distraught mother, Carol Peletier, and a totally uninterested father, Ed Peletier. Everyone and anyone who knew of the Peletier’s knew Ed beat the shit out of both females and drank his weight in alcohol. When this case came across his desk, the new detective almost got into his unmarked car to put a full clip in Ed’s chest. Almost. Sophia came first. 

They had specifically recruited him because of his ability to track. Back in King County, Daryl knew his way around those woods better than his own home; essentially growing up in those woods and hunting with his favorite weapon, a crossbow. The hunter had to feed him, his brother, and mother somehow. So from an early age he had learned to track and move silently within the woods. This gave him an advantage Ford recognized when Sophia was reportedly lost in the woods between King County and Atlanta during a camping trip with her parents.

Carol had called the morning he had gotten the case. The little girl had been missing for a couple of hours and the distraught mother couldn’t find her in the dense woods. As Daryl had arrived at the scene, his blood boiled with repressed anger. Ed was leaned back in a foldable camping chair with a beer in his hand, and Carol stood several feet away at the tree line, tears freely flowing down her face.

“Mr. and Mrs. Peletier? I’m Detective Dixon. I’m here to find yer daughter. Is there anything ya can tell me? What she’s wearin last? Why she ran off? Anywhere she may or may not go?” There was obvious tension between the couple. The abused woman’s demeanor went from scared for her daughter to scared for her life, hands shaking from obvious fear.

“She jus ran off, Dixon.” The drunk male slurred as he adjusted in the straining chair. The tracker reached into the trunk of the car and retrieved his weapon of choice.

“Sure. Anywhere she’d go? Is she familiar with these woods?” Daryl turned at the humorless huff the elder male let out. Rolling his eyes, he turned to the mother of the child, looking for answers.

Taking a deep, strengthening breath the grey haired woman gathered her courage, taking glimpses of her husband, “I don’t know where she could have g-gone, but she has been here once b-before.” 

“Do ya ‘member what she was wearin before she went missin?” He asked as he walked further toward the line of trees, glancing around for any signs of a trail, stopping by a bush that had broken limbs and a boot print in the mud. The trees were dense, but the tree litter and mud from a recent rain made it easier to track. “Stay ‘ere n wait. She may come back.”

Not turning to look for conformation, Daryl continued to follow the hurried steps of the young girl. There weren’t any other steps that followed behind her, so she left on her own. These tracks were probably not more than an hour or two older than when the report came in. That was good news. As he followed the trail for what seemed like hours, steady hands adjusted the weight of his crossbow over his shoulders.

Many people who hunted preferred the use of rifles and shotguns compared to that of a bow of any sort. When his Uncle Jesse gave him his first crossbow, Daryl found himself at easy using it. It didn’t take more than an hour or two at first to get used to the weight and draw of the child-sized bow. Now, however, he had upgraded to his newest one. He was so proud the day he bought his very own bow with his first pay check from the department. The older-prized crossbow had a special place on the wall of his new apartment. Just like his Uncle Jesse had a special place in his life.

Uncle Jesse was his mother’s brother. After his mom passed away in an unexpected house fire everything at home became a lot worse. Uncle Jesse was there for that, taking him away from it all when he could. Daryl smiled sadly in memory. He taught him how to hunt, track, skin kills, how to forage, and any manner of other survival skills. Mostly though, he taught this young Dixon how to still love and care despite the abuses of home.

Startled out of his thoughts, blue eyes focused on the immediate area. The hunter could have sworn he heard something. The trees were getting thicker as he got closer to the sounds of water. The woods had a tendency to get him in this mindset. He’d let his thoughts wonder as he tracked his prey for the day, allowing him to come to terms with and rattle around complicated issues. Most of the time that was a good thing for him but not so much when he was in the middle of searching for the little Peletier girl.

There! There it was again.

A small smile slipped onto his face. He wasn’t losing his mind after all. Speeding up, the excited detective continued to follow the faint noises he heard in front of him. They were barely discernible from the surrounding static of crickets and little woodland animals.

Suddenly coming to a stop, Daryl looked down over the small cliff, the cries a little louder. He’d have to back track and find a way below the cliffs. Looking for another solution, the decision was made for him when the ground below gave away and he fell down the cliff side into a ravine. Then darkness.

He hated the dark. Monsters hid in the dark. A monster he didn’t want to EVER think about again. Daryl would rather go days without sleeping than dream of the monsters that constantly tried to claw up his back. His past and demons weighed heavily on him every day. He refused to let himself indulge in anything other than one night stands. Dixon’s weren’t made to have healthy relationships. Work, family, romantic, or otherwise.

The darkness was closing in. He tried to get away from his past. He tried to live beyond the Dixon name. Tried and failed many times to date and have a stable life. Getting a degree and subsequently on the force helped some, but it still seems like no matter what he’s done… The darkness is always at the edge. Clawing. Breathing down his neck. Tearing him apart inside. There was seldom a light in his life. His brother. Flitting in and out like a dying flame.

Daryl almost sobbed thinking of his brother, Merle, helping where he could, when he could. When he wasn’t locked up for one thing or another. He tried to get out. Given the ultimatum prison or military service wasn’t much of a difference but he tried to get out. His big brother was there for him when he was free, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Merle had his own darkness to fight. It’s been a long time since he last saw him.

What was that?

Was that crying?

Was he crying?

No, he wasn’t. Or he didn’t think he was.

Why was he here? Why was his surrounded by darkness again? Did it finally consume him?

Excruciatingly slow, the detective became aware of sharp stinging pain. A pain located in his side. What happened, he wondered. He could feel his hands and feet now, slowly becoming more aware of his situation. Was he wet? Opening his eyes, Daryl grimaced as the bright light filtered through the trees almost blinding the now conscious man. Looking up, he remembered how he ended up in the small creek. It seems as if the recent rain had finally worn away the cliff of the ravine and caused it to collapse with the added weight.

Attempting to sit up, Daryl’s hand immediately came up to his side. That was a bad idea, he thought as his hand came around a crossbow bolt stuck through his side. Groaning, he unbuttoned his police uniform shift and tore at his under shirt to create a makeshift tourniquet that he tied above the wound to help staunch the bleeding. Judging by the position of the sun he hadn’t been out for maybe an hour at the most. A few feet away lay his crossbow, it looked undamaged at least, maybe a scratch on the paint here and there. Crawling closer to it, Daryl grabbed it and used the foot hold at the front to help him stand up. It was a slow process. His whole body ached from taking a beating from the tree roots coming down the side of the ravine, not to mention the bolt sticking out his side. He’d had worse before.

A soft cry tore his attention away from his injuries. Sophia! The cries were barely discernible from the running water nearby. Grunting in exertion, he slowly made his way to the direction he thought they were coming from calling out to her, “Sophia? Sophia Peletier? Sophia please follow my voice! I’m Officer Daryl Dixon! Your mom is very worried about you!”

The ravine wasn’t that large. It had a small stream running down with slick rocks at the bottom. It was a miracle he wasn’t more seriously injured other than a bump on the head. There were several logs in the stream that had fallen from above as the cliff got washed away with frequent rain over the years. It would have been a good place to camp if he wasn’t searching for a little girl. Several yards away from Daryl was an outcropping of trees and bushes where he would guess the crying was centered.

A sigh of relief and victory passed from his this lips as he came closer to the crying little blonde girl. Bruised and dirty from a beating and 27 hours in the local floral but alive. That’s all that mattered. Little Sophia was alive.

“Sophia?” Speaking softly as he inched forward and moved some of the debris from the opening. Startled, the little girl flinched at seeing the other male, wild eyes sizing him up, muscles tensed and ready to fight if she had to. A frown fell over his dirty face, and sadness and rage filled his heart at seeing the state she was in. How could anyone do something like this to a child? But then he remembered his nine day stay in the same woods. Parents that were that cruel should have been sterilized. They shouldn’t be allowed to birth such innocent beings and then corrupt them with their fists, belts, and words.

Daryl stayed where he was frozen, watching and waiting for the frightened girl to come to him and accept his help. Slowly, she began to relax once she realized what she was seeing wasn’t her father but a police officer. Carefully, she made her way toward Daryl, tears still rolling down her dirty cheeks. A small genuine smile fell across his face as she reached forward and placed her smaller hand into his much larger one. Still terrified. No doubt. But safe.

“You’re gonna be okay, Sophia. Let’s get you back to your momma.” He reassured as he assisted her out of the small space. “Are you okay? Any pain?” There was no blood, but that only meant she had no cuts, not a broken rib or a fractured arm. It was kind of hard to tell with all the dirt in the way. He could still see some outlines of bruises from where Ed, he assumed, had grabbed her arms too hard, a split lip, and a couple of scratched from the woods.

“I-I’m okay. Mr. Dixon.” She spoke barely above a whisper, not meeting his eyes as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. He felt an ache in his heart. She reminded him so much of himself at her age. The urge to protect her flared to life. He would do anything to help this young child from becoming a fuck up life him.

~End Flashback~

After finding little Sophia it had taken twice as long to get out of the woods thanks to his new injury. However, instead of going back to the camp like he planned due to the fact that neither of them could climb up the steep sides of the ravine, they followed the winding trail of water through the forest. Daryl would have called from his radio or cellphone if they hadn’t been damaged by the fall. Thankfully they didn’t have to walk more than a mile or two before they happened across the Greene farm. The elder man that owned the farm, Hershel Greene, allowed them inside to make the call and patching up what he could, leaving Daryl’s side alone as he was only a vet and had no real human knowledge.

When they had gotten back to the department Chief Ford had been grateful that he had found the little Peletier girl, but was pissed that he had ignored orders to wait for back up to search for her. Her mother was overjoyed after the return of her daughter, hugging and petting her as tears freely flowed down her face and into Sophia’s dirty hair. The fire was lit within the momma bear with the return of her cub and the scare of almost losing her permanently. She asked Daryl to help her put their abuser away for good this time. After dealing with this case for years as a patrolman on the force, it was worth the ass chewing from Ford and arrow in the side to hear her finally pursue filing a case. Ed Peletier was arrested that day for abuse of both mother and daughter as well as child endangerment, earning him a few decades behind bars. However, that didn’t matter. Once he was placed in prison and the inmates discovered his charges he was found dead in the shower room a few months later. Justice was served.

Despite all that success, this case took it all. It had been several weeks of late nights, too much coffee, and little to no leads in, what was obviously, a serial killer case. It had gotten nowhere in all those weeks. But now… Now the chief wanted to bring someone else in on the case. That pissed him off to no end, but what added insult to injury was the fact that the consultant was from King County, almost 2 hours away. Why did Abe think he needed assistance from a small town sheriff’s deputy? That’s how Daryl had found himself in Chief Ford’s office after an early Monday morning briefing.

“Wha do ya mean by this chief?” The deep Southern accent coming out harsher in anger. Did he not trust him to do his job? Just the thought ripped a hole through his confidence.

“Now Dixon-“ a grumble from the man cut him off, “I’m sorry, Princess Daryl. This is nothing against you or the work you’ve already done. We need help and a new set of peepers looking at this shit show. I’ve got the public and the mayor breathing down my neck for answers.”

Huffing, just because he saw the logic in what the man said didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. “Don need no help with this case! Why ya gotta pull some small town cop fer this?”

He never got his answer.

“Should I come back… Later?”

Who the hell?!

The startled officer spun around. Narrow blue eyes sized up the male in the doorway. So, this must be the new guy.

The tall, slim man was dressed in the uniform typical for King County, tan shirt and brown pants with their patches, minus the cowboy hat Daryl just found ridiculous. The shirt clung to his lightly muscular form. He wasn’t as built in the shoulders as Daryl but he still looked like he took care of himself and worked out regularly. A dark curl caught his attention as he looked up to this errant strand. Curls. They looked soft and silky smooth. He just wanted… Daryl almost visibly recoiled at the line of thought. Nope. Not happening. He continued his assessment of his new co-worker, almost groaning at the sight of those bowed legs.

The most impure thoughts surrounding those legs and hair passed through his mind. That was before the man’s eyes caught his attention. They were the most perfect depictions of the sky. Those eyes spoke of challenge and fire despite clear nerves being written across his face. He could almost drown in those eyes. Squinting, there was a sadness that lingered there also.

No. No he could not feel sorry for this asshole that was stomping into his territory. Frustrated, Daryl stormed off after the chief made introductions, almost slamming into Rick, who didn’t move fast enough. The young Dixon stormed to his command center and slammed the door behind him, flopping into a nearby chair.

Fuck that curly haired menace. This was his case and him and his curly hair wasn’t going to take it from him.

He watched as the chief took the newbie around the office. Groaning, Daryl slammed his forehead on the desk. This was going to be the longest day in his career.


End file.
